


The Road to Damascus

by Aedyn



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Adventure, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, More tags to be added, Sex, Slow Romance, Survival, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aedyn/pseuds/Aedyn
Summary: In this alternate universe Shepard was born  six years later.  The war against the Reapers has been well underway for five years, when the Alliance realizes their only hope lies on a skilled soldier who has the ability to interface with the Prothean beacons.  Can she find a way to stop the Reapers before the galaxy's greatest civilizations are wiped from history?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I started writing years ago and got away from. I always wanted to come back to it, so I am. I hope you enjoy! it will be quite different than the trilogy. Characters will show up in new and interesting places. If there's a specific character you'd like to see, let me know and I'll certainly try to work them in. Though definitely expect to see favorites such as Mordin, Aria T'Loak and more!
> 
>  
> 
> 9/13/18: Been crazy busy with work and fighting writer’s block but still working on the next chapter. I work on a lot of stories at once and go back and forth between them, so sometimes I'll get a kick on one story and knock out several chapters at once and ignore the others a bit. Rest assured though I am working on all of my posted stories!

**2188 C.E. – 5 Years Into The Reaper War**

Shepard awoke with a start, glancing hurriedly around the small room, which was just barely lit by a light on her nightstand.  Her hair was wet with sweat, and her hands were shaking.  Sitting up in bed, she pulled her knees to her chest, clasping her hands together to try stem the trembling.  It was bad enough that the Reapers were raging a brutal war here and now, but that she had to have nightmares of their slaughter 50,000 years ago was decidedly unfair she thought.  It wasn’t even always the images in the dreams that bothered her.  It was their silence.  Scene after scene of Prothean destruction filled her mind, but there was never any sound, as if she were deaf within her dreams.  The silence drove her mad.  After serving on Palaven, Sur’kesh and more, the sounds of war were expected.  If she could hear the screams, the explosions, these she was familiar with and then for some insane reason the dreams would be less horrific.  But the silence.

With deep breaths she was finally able to relax somewhat and reached over to tap the light to illuminate the room more.  It didn’t take much light to fill her small 100 square feet, which with each passing day felt more and more like a tomb.  She slid off the cot, shivering as her bare feet touched the cold floor.  She pulled off and tossed her drenched tank top on the floor behind her as she headed over to the sink in the corner.   

After turning the faucet on she dunked her head underneath, letting the warm water run through her hair for a few minutes.  The pressure of the water on her skin was comforting.  She shut the water off and gave her head a good shake, spraying the mirror with water droplets.  Grabbing a towel, she wiped the mirror and studied her reflection.  The three long scratches that ran diagonally down from her left collarbone, between her breasts, and then curved around the right side of her ribcage had healed well, and though the scars barely stood out against her pale skin they would never completely go away.  She’d been injured enough times to know what would leave a scar and what wouldn’t.  This certainly could have been much worse.  The scratches from the terad had been the least of her worries, as that particular brand of Reaper was known to use a nasty poison.  She’d been sidelined from duty for the past month and was ready to get back out there before she got too rusty.  She reached her right hand up to her collarbone, slowly tracing the scars down her skin.  They were still slightly painful to touch, and she winced when she hit a particularly tender spot above her heart.  With a sigh she grabbed a fresh tank top and pants from a nearby shelf and slipped them on.  She grabbed some gel from the shelf by the sink and began to slick back her pixie-short jet black hair.   

Three enormously loud thuds on the door didn’t even faze her.   

“Come in!”

The door slid open and a large krogan walked in, ducking as he did so as he could barely fit through the door.  Shepard didn’t turn to acknowledge him; rather she just continued fooling with her hair, which would never do what she wanted it to.

“It’s 2 in the morning, Wrex,” she said.

“Got our orders, Shepard.  Figured you’d be up anyway,” Wrex said.  “If you’re done getting ready for the ball, maybe we can do something that’s actually fun.”

Shepard chuckled.  “Like killing Reapers?”  She could see Wrex’s smile reflected in the mirror.

“I’m about to claw my damn face off, if we don’t get out of this hellhole.”

Shepard finally turned to him, her left eyebrow arched.  “Hellhole?  Shelter, warm food, and minimal threat of Reaper attack.  That’s your definition of hell?” 

Wrex waved her off.  “You know me, Shepard.  Not happy unless I’m pounding my fists into a Reaper skull.”

Really though, she felt the same way.  They hadn’t left the underground bunker since she’d been medevaced here after her injury on Palaven, and the single poster on her wall of a tropical beach did little to alleviate the cabin fever.  She walked over and took a seat on her cot, grabbed the boots next to it and began to put them on. 

“You didn’t have to stay here this past month,” she said playfully.  “Hackett would’ve gladly assigned you to a squad.  Temporarily of course.”

He grunted, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.  “I don’t fight without my ‘badass little sister.’  Not anymore anyway,” he grumbled.  He enjoyed the smile he always got out of her when he called her way, but there was truth in the words.         

Shepard, who was focused on the laces of her boots, looked up at him and grinned.  Over the last three years they’d pulled each other out of the fire so many times that she couldn’t imagine going into a warzone without him.  “Same here.”

Then he let out a guttural laugh that came out as something more akin to a roar.  “If it ever gets back to Tuchanka that my best friend is a squishy human female, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Shepard couldn’t deny that.  “You say you have orders?”

“Hell yeah!”  He replied.  “Hackett’s sending us to a place with a whole damn mess of Reapers.  It’s like… what do you humans call it?  Christmas?” 

Finished with her boots, she went over to Wrex, who handed her the datapad.  She muttered to herself as she read through the mission briefing.  “Priority 1 beacon… Asari… Planet J-36… high Reaper threat.”  She glanced up from the datapad to Wrex.  “Christmas huh?”

Wrex grinned, baring his large teeth, but then his face turned dark.  “Yeah, but there’s a catch.”

Shepard nodded.  “The asari?”

He threw his arms up.  “How am I supposed to maximize my Reaper killing while covering some scientist’s ass?”

“Must be important… a Priority 1 beacon.  Hackett wants to brief us personally aboard his ship before we leave.  The shuttle’ll be ready in… one hour?”  She rubbed her temple.  “Some warning they give us.”

Wrex’s eyes narrowed.  “You alright, Kaeta?”  He only used her first name when he was really concerned about her. 

She simply nodded and tossed the datapad on her cot.  “We do what we have to don’t we?” 

“They wouldn’t send you if it wasn’t important,” Wrex assured her.

“Send us, you mean.”

“No, you.  You’re the one that’s going to save the whole damn galaxy. ”

“So people like to remind me.  But it’s ok,” she said and tried give Wrex a reassuring smile, but her blue eyes betrayed her.  “I’m ready to fight.  You know that.”

He nodded.  “Nobody can kill a Reaper like you, Shepard.  Besides me of course.”

“But these beacons… I’d rather tangle with another terad than go through one of those again.”

“They say those are the key,” Wrex replied.  He knew Shepard didn’t fear much, but he was of only a couple who knew what nightmares the beacons brought her.

“And I’m one of the few people who can interface with the damn things without their mind being liquefied.”

Wrex walked over to her.  He towered over her puny 5 feet and 8 inches, but he knew pound for pound she was hard as steel.  “Lucky you,” he muttered and patted her on the shoulder.

Shepard sighed and leaned her forehead against Wrex’s chest, the cold metal of his armor soothing the headache she knew would come soon.  “Lucky me.”

“I always got your back, Shepard.”

***

Shepard tried to suppress a yawn as they waited for the elevator.  It had started down in E-Section, which meant at least a two minute wait, assuming it didn’t stop anywhere else along the way.  Obion, or “Iceberg” as the base was oh so affectionately called by its inhabitants, was a mammoth underground structure.  The unusual radiation on the planet, of which Shepard was unfortunately all too familiar, made it nearly impossible for the Reapers to detect them, and the Alliance had therefore made a sizable investment in the planet.  Aside from housing and training special forces, the base was also home to numerous research labs searching for new ways to combat the Reapers, and not the least of their interest was the knowledge in Shepard’s mind, which they’d had only minimal success in unlocking the secrets of. 

Standing next to her, Wrex was humming a tune she wasn’t familiar with.

“What is that?”

He frowned.  “Some stupid song they always played in the elevators at the Citadel.  Now every time I even see an elevator I can’t get the damn thing out of my head.”

“I wish I could’ve seen the Citadel.  Besides vids and pictures of course.”

“You will.  Once you figure all this out we’ll have to head there and give Arterius the brutal ass-kicking he’s earned.”  Wrex flashed a vicious grin.  “It will be my sincere pleasure to rip his spine out through his mouth.”

She sighed.  “Yeah, once I ‘figure all this out.’  No pressure there, Wrex.  Just the fate of the galaxy and all.”

“Got faith in you, Shepard.”

“You too, Wrex.”

Finally came the long-awaited ding as the elevator arrived and the doors slid open.  Shepard headed in, running directly into a quarian who was coming out with an armful of datapads that went crashing to the floor.

“Oh bosh’tet,” the quarian muttered absently, too tired to really care.

Shepard cringed, this was not how she wanted to start the morning.  There were only six quarians on the base, and she knew Lia’vael instantly.  Her white and black enviro-suit with its silver-grey visor made her stand out.  The other quarians wore them as well, but Lia’vael took exceptional pride in her suit, and it thus featured a highly artistic level of intricacy that impressed Shepard, who herself, based on her own opinion, had the artistic talent of a one-handed vorcha.  Wrex was always quick to remind her that killing was an art all its own, and she was a master.

“I’m so sorry, Lia’vael,” Shepard said, tossing her helmet towards Wrex as she knelt down with the quarian to help her gather up the datapads.

“Don’t worry about it, Shepard,” she said.  “You’ve had a rough month I hear.  I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Thanks.  Ummm, so how are things down in E?”

“Good, good.  I’m helping work on an experimental new drive core.  If we can get all the kinks worked out, she’ll make a ship quiet as starlight.”

“That’s… that sounds awesome, Lia’vael!”  Shepard immediately bit her tongue.  Why did she just gush like a sixteen year old getting her first hovercar? 

“Yeah, it is very exciting.  I didn’t know you were interested in engines, Shepard.  You should come down to E section sometime.  I’ll show you what we’re working on.”

“Sure, engines are the best.  All the thrust, energy output, all that stuff is just… the best.”  Dear God it was getting worse!  “So, Wrex and I are off on a mission.  Keep an eye on the place will you?”

“Of course,” she said and took the last datapad from Shepard.  “Let me know when you get back, maybe we’ll have the new engine up and running.”

“Let’s go, Wrex,” Shepard said quickly and moved on into the elevator.

“Good luck you two,” Lia’vael called out as she vanished down the hall, dropping another datapad on the way.  “Bosh’tets, every one of you,” she groaned at the datapads.

Wrex stepped inside the elevator and offered Shepard her helmet back.

“Shut up,” she said as she grabbed it from him and slid it on.       

Stepping out of the elevator and onto the surface of C-12 or Osira as it used to be called, Shepard was quickly reminded why they lived in an underground bunker, and it suddenly felt less tomb-like.  C-12 was a desolate ice world, glaciers stretching into the distance only to vanish behind the massive blizzards that relentlessly bombarded the planet.

“I forgot how cold it was up here,” Wrex muttered.

“Thought it was a hellhole,” she replied. 

Wrex merely grunted, which came out slightly robotic through the speaker on his helmet. 

“Cold’s already affecting our gear.  That damn shuttle needs to hurry up.”  She tapped on her omnitool and bumped her armor’s internal temperature a few degrees.

After five minutes, boredom getting the better of her, Shepard left the relative shelter of the small bunker and walked out into the snow.  It was still early in the morning and the sky was filled with stars, though the constant presence of ice and snow meant it never got completely dark.  There were storms raging all around in the distance, but their area was clear except for a few stray puffy clouds.  Shepard knelt down and grabbed a handful of snow.  It was fresh; a heavy storm had come through just the day before.  Carefully she molded it into a sphere, stood, turned and pelted Wrex right between the eyes.

“That’s got to hurt,” she quipped.

He tapped the side of his helmet with his finger and shrugged.

“I meant your pride,” she explained.

“Wait till we get to J-36,” he said and clapped his hands together.  “1000 creds says I kill more husks than you.  Then we’ll talk about pride.”

“I’ll take that action, but if I win I don’t want creds,” Shepard said. 

Wrex crossed his arms.  He didn’t like the direction this was going.  “What then?” 

Shepard grinned; the suspicion in his voice was evident.  “You know Lia’vael?”

“That squishy little quarian doing engine research down in E-Section?  The one you were just talking to?  Yeah, Shepard, I think I know her.”

She nodded.

Wrex huffed and waved her off.  “Not happening, Shepard.  If you win, unlikely, you take your 1,000 credits.”

“I’m not saying you have to make a big deal about it, Wrex,” she said, trying not to sound desperate, that would only make Wrex happier.  “But if you could just chat with her…”

“Nope.  A krogan matchmaker I’m not.”

“Wrex, don’t be difficult.  Didn’t you say you always had my back?”  She teased. 

“Not fair.  Besides, you’re the great Shepard.” 

“You know how flustered I get with things like this.”  She was glad Wrex couldn’t see the blush rising in her cheeks.  “I mean you saw…”

He laughed.  “Heh, yeah it was damn funny.” 

“Wrex…,” she said, a slight pout in her voice.      

He threw up his arms in surrender.  “I tell you what.  You kill twice as many husks as me, and I’ll think about it.”

Shepard sighed.  “Fine.  I thought you were actually going to make me do something challenging.”

“Well, if it’s a bet, we gotta make it official,” he said as he approached her.

She straightened up as if to salute.  “Indeed!”  She slammed her forehead into his, their helmets clanging together.

“Damn, you’re getting better at that,” Wrex said with a shake of his head.

They both looked up as the roar of the shuttle’s engines caught their attention. 

Wrex rubbed his hands together eagerly.  “Now, if we can get to some real fun.  Let’s go nab us an asari and a beacon.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! Kudos are always greatly appreciated, if you're enjoying the story. Comments welcome as well!

Shepard was definitely conflicted about the shuttle.  Though born in Norway, she’d moved at a young age with her parents to Australia  and, having spent much of her childhood there, she had little appreciation for cold weather, and the shuttle did promise warmth.  However, this was an older model with obvious patchwork repairs, and some components that looked like they’d been forced into place with a sledgehammer, which probably meant for a bumpy ride.  In this case the warmth of the shuttle won out.

“Welcome aboard the Churchill, Commander Shepard,” the young pilot said and offered her a hand into the shuttle.  He merely nodded politely at Wrex.  “Specialist Wrex.  I’m Lt. Cunningham,” he  said as he closed the hatch.

Wrex shook his head and shook his fist in annoyance.  “How many times I gotta say this?  Wrex.  Just Wrex.”  The Alliance had tried to make Wrex’s posting somewhat official, hiring him on contract as a “mission specialist,” which he considered a big damned waste of time.  He didn’t need a contract to fight with Shepard.

“Thank you, Lt. Cunningham.  Just ignore him,” she said, jerking a thumb at Wrex.  “Churchill, good name.”

“Yes, M’am.  It’s an old ship that’s taken an absolute beating, but it keeps charging forward,” Cunningham said, his face beaming with pride.

“As do we all,” Shepard replied.

“Indeed.  Now, Commander, there has been a change of plans.  Our original orders were to take you to the SSV Ardennes, which would then transport you to the Fifth Fleet.”

“Right, I’m supposed to be briefed by Admiral Hackett.”

“New orders just dropped a few minutes ago.  We’ve been given a rendezvous point in this system.  We’re to proceed there and await further instructions.”

Shepard frowned.  Last minute orders weren’t out of the ordinary given they were embroiled in a galactic war, but they still caused concern.  “Any ideas on the change?”

“I’m afraid that’s way above my rank, Commander.  They tell me where to fly you and that’s about all I get.  Could be they changed the orders last minute as a ruse?  Perhaps the original orders were intentionally leaked to throw off any Reaper forces in the area.” 

“True, wouldn’t be the first time.  Well, thank you, Lt.  Let’s get underway.”

Cunningham saluted and headed back to the cockpit.

Shepard and Wrex grabbed seats opposite each other.  She removed her helmet and set it beside her, taking a moment to strap it in with a seatbelt, though she didn’t bother to strap herself in.  The only thing that terrified her more than flying was the thought of being strapped into that damn seat if something did go wrong.  After her tussle with the terad, her armor had been nearly shot.  Command had just requisitioned her a brand new set of black N7 armor, and she took better care of it than she did herself.  Wrex removed his helmet and tossed it on the floor and proceeded to prop his feet up on it. 

Shepard shook her head with a sigh.  “That’s why your mic was scratchy.  It’s not the cold.  You’re just not careful.”

“It’s not my firstborn, Shepard,” he said, nodding towards her helmet.

“I know.  I know.  Some of just take pride in the way we look, Wrex.”

“Yep, you’re called girls,” Wrex replied and kicked his helmet toward her playfully.

The shuttle creaked and groaned as it took off, the floor plates vibrating fiercely as they began to pass through the atmosphere. 

“What do you think is going on?” Wrex asked, trying to feign interest.  Alliance orders didn’t matter to him so much, just getting into the thick of it with Shepard at his side.

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees and merely shrugged.

Wrex groaned and slammed his fist into the seat, leaving a dent behind.  “If they tell me I don’t get to go kill Reapers now, they might as well shoot me in the quad.”

“Pretty picture, Wrex,” she said, and glanced up as a loud metallic clang reverberated through the ceiling.  “And try not to hit the shuttle, it might come apart.”

“Death by decompression.  That’s one way to go.”

The shuttle had a sudden and particularly large jolt and she quickly grabbed the seat arm beside her in a white-knuckle grip as as her face went deathly white.

“Are you going to pass out on me, Shepard?  You’re pale as a quarian anyway, but you don’t look so good.”

“Not funny, Wrex!  I think I might put my helmet on and just take my chances in the vacuum of space.”

“How the hell can you fight Reapers and still be afraid to fly?”

She shot him an icy glare and forced herself to let go of the seat arm.  “I am not afraid to fly!  The thought of burning up in the atmosphere just doesn’t excite me.”     

“I wouldn’t worry, Commander,” Cunningham yelled.  “If anything gets us it’ll be an engine explosion.”

“There, you see?  Engine explosion.  Relax, Shepard,” Wrex said reassuringly.

Thirty minutes later the shuttle was in position near one of the moons of the fifth planet in the system. 

“Now, we wait, Commander,” Cunningham shouted back to them.  “They didn’t give me an eta.”

“Understood,” Shepard said, then looked to Wrex.  “Did you bring any cards?”

He huffed.  “Don’t play with you, Shepard.” He then pointed an accusatory finger at her.  “You cheat.”

She feigned a hurt look.  “Just because you’re terrible at gambling doesn’t mean I cheat.”

Wrex grunted.  “Are you saying you never used your optical implants to see through my cards?”

The mirth in her blue eyes betrayed her.  “Wrex, come on.  Would I do that?”

“That was my best pistol you took,” he grumbled.

“I gave it back didn’t I?”

He pulled the pistol from his side and held it up for her to see.  “Yeah, with the sights all messed up.”

“That’s why I had to make sure I won that game.  It was the only way I could get my hands on it and fix the damn thing for you.  Perhaps you haven’t noticed all of the sniper medals in my room?  Those sights are straight as an arrow now.  You just like to shoot crooked.”

“Keep it up, Shepard.  Just keep it up,” he said and holstered his pistol.

Shepard clucked her tongue.  “Poor poor, Wrex.  You’re so mistreated.”  She pulled her Incisor sniper rifle from her back, the mico-gears in it purring as it extended to its full length.  She began adjusting the scope.

Wrex slid his hands behind his head and leaned back against the bulkhead with a yawn.  “So, you’re into quarians now?”

Whatever blood had drained from her cheeks earlier instantly returned, and her eyes shot up at Wrex, who had a massive grin, and then quickly back to the rifle in her hands.  She reached up to push her hair back behind her right ear, as she often did when she was embarrassed, only to remember that it was gone and quickly dropped her hand.  They’d had to cut most of it off after it’d been singed on Palaven. 

He raised his hands defensively.  “Not that I blame you.  Lia’vael’s biosuit certainly leaves little to the imagination.  She does have a nice ass… for a non-krogan anyway.  Too small for me though, nothing to really grab onto.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Really, Wrex?” 

“Why do you think I never hit on you?  Just not enough meat on you.”

“Eww, Wrex.”

“Don’t be sad, Shepard.  From what I hear from the rookies in the mess hall, your ass certainly doesn’t go unnoticed.”  Wrex gave a devilish smile.  “Warned you.”

 “You did.  I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about being bad at cards,” she replied as she pulled the scope off the rifle and glanced through it.  Then a grin tugged the corners of her mouth.  “Wait, what do they say about me in the mess hall?”

Wrex winked at her.  “Don’t worry, if it ever gets too disrespectful I give them my ‘I’m going to rip you in half with biotics and stomp on your heart look.’”

Her brow furrowed in confusion.  “Wrex, that’s the look you always have.”

“Heh heh, but I kid, Shepard.  I’m actually a little excited.  Nope, that’s wrong.  I’m happier than a vorcha on a garbage scow.”

Her eyebrow arched; she was afraid to ask but couldn’t resist.  “Explain?”

“Well… you haven’t shown interest in anyone since…,” he averted his eyes, “… you know.”

“Oh, yeah,” she mumbled and cleared her throat.  “Yeah, I know.  Michael was… yeah.”

“You still don’t blame me?”  Three years earlier Wrex had found her and another marine, Michael Bergen, both badly injured, taking cover in a bomb crater on Elysium.  Bergen was unconscious and nearly dead, and Shepard was in so much pain she had started to hallucinate.  When he drug her out of the crater she’d yelled at him so loud to leave her and take Michael instead, yelled until her lungs gave out.  Once she was safe he lead a team back to get the other marine, but it was too late.  It was only later he learned the two had been more than squad mates.     

She looked at him straight on and shook her head.  “Never.  You couldn’t save us both.  I know that now.  But remember, Wrex, we agreed.  We don’t talk about this.  Ever.”

“Sure, Shepard, but it’s been three years.”

“Wrex,” she said, her voice rising slightly.

“I’m just saying I think you’re due some fun.  Though maybe you should’ve tried to pick someone who doesn’t run a 50% chance of dying from an infection after sex.  Kind’ve kills the mood.”

Shepard gave him a half-smile.  “Thanks for the advice, old friend.”

Wrex flashed her a thumbs up.  “Got your back!”

Shepard nodded and went back to her rifle.

“Lia’vael can get your front,” he added with a hearty chuckle.

She fumbled and the scope slipped out of her hand.  She let out a deep breath.  “Alright, we’ve got to get you out there killing some reapers.  I think you’re starting to lose it.  Sheesh, maybe it’s you.  When’s the last time you got any ‘fun?’”

“You might want to look out the window, Commander,” Cunningham said.

Terribly thankful for the interruption, Shepard laid her rifle aside, stood and walked over to the window.  She could see a ship coming alongside them.  It was beautiful, long and sleek.  Unlike a lot of Alliance ships, it didn’t show signs of battle, but it was different from any design she’d ever seen.

“What is it?”  Wrex asked.

“Alliance frigate.”  She turned to Wrex, smiling, though she wasn’t sure why.  “The Normandy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate the comments and kudos so far. They keep me motivated to keep going! Things are about to get exciting in the next couple of chapters I hope!

Ten minutes later Shepard was stepping out of the shuttle into the Normandy’s hangar bay.  They were docked next to another shuttle, which, unlike the Churchill, looked like it was fresh off the assembly line.  A few crewmembers were going about the bay unpacking cargo, calibrating equipment, and appeared to be finishing up last minute touches to the ship.  Wrex came out behind her and took up a spot leaning against the shuttle.  It was hard to tell which was of the two was more scarred. 

Shepard took a deep breath, a slight smile touching the corners of her lips.  She hadn’t been aboard a frigate in months, but she immediately felt at home with the vibration of the deck plates and the hum of the engine.  She belonged on a ship.  Wrex wasn’t wrong about her fear of flying, but that was the shuttle.  This was a frigate, a warship.  This wasn’t flying at all; it was sailing.      

A young lieutenant approached her.  He cleared his throat to get her attention.  “Welcome aboard, Commander.  I’m Private Wyatt.  It’s a real honor to meet the ‘hero of Sur’kesh.”

Wrex groaned and shook his large head.  “Shouldn’t have said that,” he muttered under his breath.

Her brow furrowed.  “At ease, and please don’t call me that,” she replied with a quick salute. 

O’Riley blanched.  “Apologies, Commander, I meant no disrespect.  Quite the opposite!”

She nodded dismissively.  “No apologies needed, Private.  I just don’t like the reminder.”  She rested her hands on her hips and surveyed the cargo bay.  “This is a fine ship you have.  I’ve never seen her like.”

The Pvt.’s face brightened.  “Nor will you anywhere else, Commander.  She’s unique the Normandy is.  But perhaps I should let the Captain fill you in.  If you’ll follow me.”

“I’ll hang out here and keep the pilot company,” Wrex said.  “You know I get grumpy in mission briefings.”

“Fine.  I’ll fill you in when I get back,” Shepard said.  She pointed to her eyes and then to Wrex.  “Don’t cause trouble, Wrex.”

Wrex snorted.  “You can trust me, Shepard.  When did a krogan ever cause trouble?”

“Don’t get me started,” she joked.

Shepard followed the lieutenant to the front of the hangar to the elevator, passing by an incredibly well-stocked armory which quickly caught her eye.  She hadn’t seen some of those sniper rifle models before; she might have to beg one off the ship’s captain.  They stepped into the elevator and the private pushed the button for the command deck. 

Shepard glanced at the console.  “Five decks?”

“Technically, but the cargo bay is really more a sub-deck of engineering than a completely separate deck.  Top deck is small; just holds the captain’s quarters and a room that… well, I’m not sure what it’s for; no one seems to know.”

“Ship looks brand new.  Has she not seen combat yet?”  She asked as the elevator began to move up.

“Not yet.  She’s right out of the shipyard.  I just got my assignment here a week ago.  I’m on the ship’s security detail under Lt. Hekat Vendara, our chief of security.”

“Vendara?” Shepard said, her eyes narrowing.  “I know that name.  Is he…”

“Batarian,” he said.  “I couldn’t believe it either.  And you know the name because he was a pirate.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she said with a chuckle.  “How did he end up an Alliance officer?”

Wyatt shrugged.  “Story I’ve pieced together from the crew, because no one seems to know the whole thing, goes like this.  When the reapers invaded, he used his experience as a pirate and smuggler to wage guerilla war on reaper forces at the edge of the Terminus.  One day, his ship picks up an SOS from an Alliance cruiser that was badly damaged and had to crash land on a reaper infested planet.  There were no other ships in range, so he went in.  Gave the reapers some kind of hell and rescued forty-seven crew members.  Crew assumed they’d be sold off or ransomed back to the Alliance, but no, he returned them to Alliance space.  Alliance offered to wipe his record clean if he joined up.  Apparently, having skills fighting reapers is a bit in demand.”

“Who knew?” Shepard deadpanned. 

“He’s brilliant though.  His knowledge of how to fight the various reaper types planetside is impressive.  Can be nice as hell but a real whip when there’s work to be done.  He’s one of the best, or he wouldn’t be on board our newest ship.  But the captain can probably fill you in more.”

“It is at least good to know we still have the capacity to produce new ships,” Shepard said with some surprise.

“True enough.  From what I hear from the crew, she’s not the first ship of her type.  First one fought in the Battle of the Citadel.  She wasn’t destroyed but was so damaged that repair wasn’t practical.  Here’s hoping this one fares better.”

The elevator door slid open and they stepped into the CIC.  Shepard was impressed with the navigation terminal and its large holographic galactic map.  An attractive dark-haired young woman stationed at one of the terminals was talking to the batarian.  Both snapped to attention and saluted, the young woman smiling nervously.  The batarian’s four eyes watched Shepard closely as she returned their salute.  He certainly had the look of a hardened warrior.  His face was grim, and fierce scars marred his off-white skin, and he carried himself with a definite sense of self-assurance.  Shepard wasn’t sure, but she certainly felt like he was sizing her up, evaluating her.  As first impressions went, his certainly wasn't the worst she'd ever had.  They turned to their right and went through another door, passing through a small science lab and into a short hallway.  The door to the briefing room stood open.

“You’re on your own now, Commander,” Wyatt said and saluted again. 

“Thank you, Private,” she replied and entered the room.

“And again, Commander, earlier…”

Shepard forced a smile and place a reassuring hand on his upper arm.  “Wyatt, don’t worry about it.  I’ve been underground for the past month.  I’m just a little more on edge than usual.”  She turned and entered the room.

A man seated at the long conference table was studying several data pads.  He looked up as she entered and a warm smile spread across his face, forcing the already prominent wrinkles to stand out even more.  Though it was plain to see they were the wrinkles of a hard life rather than age.  He stood up and walked towards her.  “Welcome aboard, Commander Shepard.”

She couldn’t hide joy and wanted to give her old CO a hug, but she resisted and merely saluted.  “Anderson, good to see you alive and kicking.  It’s been a while.”

He ignored the salute and offered his hand, which she clasped firmly.  “What’s it been?   A year?”

“Fourteen months,” she said with disbelief.  “You and your ship got me to that beacon on Trion,” she said and then lowered her eyes.  “That was a rough one.”

He nodded and gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder.  “Beacons, yes.”  He turned to the table and pulled a chair out for her.  “Sit down, Shepard.  We have a lot to talk about.” 

“Such as batarian pirates in the Alliance?” she asked with a questioning smile as she took a seat.

Anderson chuckled and took a seat on the opposite side of the table.  “Certainly never thought I’d see the day.  He’s been serving under me the last eight months.  He’s earned his place here, just like the rest of us.  I think you’ll like him.”

“I hope I get the opportunity to know him,” she said.

“How are you feeling?  Hackett told me you just came off of medical leave.”

She waved it off.  “I’m ready to go.  Just a few scratches.”

“Mmmhmm.  They say you were injured because you went behind enemy lines to rescue three turians from a downed fighter.”

“Yes, sir.  They were injured and couldn’t get out on their own.  I took Wrex and a couple of marines in and got them out.”

Anderson sighed and leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk.  “Officially, Commander, that was damned stupid.  We can’t afford to have you risking your life unnecessarily.  Three turians won’t make a difference in this war, but you can.”  Then he pointed at her and smiled.  “Unofficially, it was fine work, and it really impressed the turians, which helped our case with the Councilor.  You have a habit of impressing people.”

Shepard’s eyebrow arched.  “The Councilor, sir?”

“Commander, are you familiar with the war situation?”

“We’re losing,” she said pointblank.

Anderson sighed and nodded his agreement.  “Badly, Commander.  We have absolutely no chance of winning a conventional victory against the Reapers.  The only reason we’re still in this war is because the Reapers don’t fear us, and are taking their sweet time.  They concentrate on each planet, wiping out everything that stands before moving on to the next.  They’ve certainly done a hell of a job on Earth.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.  Shepard hadn’t seen Earth in five years and reports from it were hard to come by.  There was still a resistance going on, but ascertaining the size of it had become impossible.  She’d heard nothing from her father since the invasion.  Her mother had died when she was young, and Shepard hated that she felt almost grateful she wasn’t around to see all this.

“I hate to say this, Shepard, because I know you probably hear it far too often, but its people like you that will win us this war.  We need to know what the Protheans knew.”

Shepard pressed her fingertips to the side of her head and let out a frustrated sigh.  “It's… it's there.  But to make sense of it…” 

“Keep at it, kid.  New information indicates that the Protheans were close to a solution.  We need that solution.”

She swallowed hard and nodded.  “Yes, Captain, I do understand what’s at stake.”

“I know you do.  We’ve put a large burden on you,” he said, kindness in his voice.  “Alliance Command and the Council are finally realizing this.  They haven’t believed in the beacons like some of us have, but this new information is changing their minds.  They have stubbornly held onto the idea that given enough time we can build an effective weapon.  Hell, maybe they’re right, but I say why pin all our hopes to that?  But now they understand we can no longer afford to treat you just like any other soldier.”

“Sir?”

“When we find a beacon, that means tracking down available ships to pick you up, protect you, get you where you need to go and extract you.  Coordinating all of that in this mess is a damned nightmare.  We lose valuable time.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We can’t afford that anymore.”  He sighed heavily and rubbed his face.  “We lost Masterson.”

Shepard’s eyes went wide, and her head began to throb.  “What?”

He nodded gravely.  “Four days ago.  Killed after recovering a beacon on Merida.  Killed because we did not provide him the support he needed to get the job done.”

Shepard’s pulse quickened.  There were only three confirmed soldiers in the Alliance able to interface effectively with Priority I Beacons, the most dangerous kind, but also the ones that offered the most reward.  Masterson was one of them.  Now, there were just two left. 

“Why am I here, Captain?  I was supposed to brief with Admiral Hackett about a new beacon.”

Anderson tapped a console on the table and a holographic image of a planet and a young asari appeared.  “This asari scientist uncovered a new beacon, Shepard.  A turian squad was supposed to escort her to a rendezvous point with you, where she would help you access it.”

“What happened?”

Anderson’s face went dark.  “Goddamn Cerberus.  Slaughtered the turians and captured the scientist.  We just got word.   We have two big problems, Shepard.  That asari is one of the foremost experts on the Protheans, and the beacon she uncovered is dangerously close to being uncovered by the Reapers, and now by Cerberus.  Not just that, but that asari was training for a critical mission.”

“What mission, sir?” she asked curiously.

“You.”

She arched an inquisitive eyebrow.

“She was training to work with you to help you not only access the beacons more effectively, but then to help you process the information once it was in your head.  We need to recover the scientist and get the beacon, and we have very little time.”

Shepard’s face turned hard.  She’d lost more than one friend to Cerberus.  “I can get her and the beacon, Captain.  I’m ready to get back to work.”

“I know you can, Shepard.  That’s why you’re here, but it’s not captain anymore.  I’ve been promoted to admiral to oversee a newly formed special operations group.  That group’s purpose is to track down beacons and recover those that they can.  If they can’t be recovered, then we help get you in.  The Normandy is the tip of the spear.  She’s based on an earlier design that we co-developed with the turians, but she’s received some updates.  Fastest engines and best stealth technology we have.”

“That will certainly help getting us to those beacons deep in the red zones.”

“I was reading through your updated file.  I understand that you’re familiar with the radiation phenomenon on C-12?”

Shepard gave a curt nod.  “More than I would like.” 

Anderson nodded with understanding.  “I know we’re asking a lot of you, Shepard.  It’s a shit deal you’ve got, but we need you.”

“I’m here for whatever you need.”

He smiled.  “We studied the radiation on C-12 extensively and the salarians found a way to incorporate it into the Normandy’s stealth systems.  She’s not invisible to Reapers but damn near.  She just came out of a top secret shipyard a few weeks ago.” 

“Congratulations, Admiral.  She’s a fine ship.”

“Congratulate yourself.”  Anderson smiled.

“Sir?”  Her hopes rose, the throbbing in her head eased, and she tried to keep from smiling.

“Effective immediately you are assigned to the SSV Normandy as commanding officer.  She’s your ship.”

“Admiral?”

“You’re a damned galactic treasure, Shepard.  You have the skills, the knowledge, and the abilities we need, and its past time we put them to real use.”

“And I can use the beacons,” she added.

Anderson dismissed that with a wave.  “Yes, but it’s not just that, Shepard.  We wouldn’t give you your own command if you weren’t ready for it.  You’ve served on the battlefield and aboard starships.  You’ve proven yourself.  Command sees it, hell even the Council sees it, and they’re blind as a bulkhead.  The Alliance has convinced the Council to offer their support.  We’re losing this war, and it’s time we start taking more risks.  Some see you as a risk; I do not.”

“I appreciate your faith in me.  But Council support?  I can live without Council red tape, Anderson.”

“They’ve selected you as a Spectre.  It will allow you access to some limited resources, information, and give you more operational freedom to do what needs to be done to win this damn war.  And let me be clear.  They aren’t doing this just because you can read the beacons, though I admit it certainly plays a role.  You’ve earned this Shepard.”

“Yes, Admiral.”  A Spectre.  The idea terrified and exhilirated her.  Spectres were the best of the best, and they had chosen her.  But did they really believe in her or was it just more damn politicking?  She'd take the reapers over politics.

“The turian councilor was hard to win over, but he couldn’t deny what you did on Palaven.  However, the turians made a significant contribution of resources towards the construction of this ship, and we still had to make one concession to appease him.” 

“What would that be?”

Anderson glanced to the open door, and Shepard followed his eyes.

“That would be me,” a turian said as he entered the room.

“Shepard, this is Lt. Commander Garrus Vakarian.  Your XO.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I posted this late last night with some last minute changes. Looking over it this morning, I realize there are a couple of things that don’t make sense. I’ll be fixing that and hopefully posting an updated chapter today or tomorrow (3/2).
> 
> Note that these characters have led different lives than in the trilogy. They’ve been fighting the reapers for years, while I will overall try to stay true to their core selves, expect some of them to do things you might not see coming.

The turian squad was busy checking their weapons as the shuttle began its descent through the upper atmosphere.  The sound of heat sinks clicking into place and discussion on landing tactics filled the compartment.  Liara T’soni hated every second of it.  It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful for the six turians assigned to protect her, nor that she was unfamiliar with war, but she didn’t like them risking their lives just for her.  She told herself their lives were no less valuable than hers, their orders indicated just the opposite.  In any case, it was a lie she told herself.  She knew her value to the war effort; six turians would not make a difference, but she could, and she hated herself for the thought, but if her talents could help saves billions, how could that be measured.  She had seen too many die already.    

“Should be planetside in a few minutes, Doctor,” Lt. Victus, who was sitting next to her, said.  He double-checked the heat sink on his gun.  “Stay seated and let them clear the landing zone.”

Victus had been assigned as her personal bodyguard until the transfer, and he took his job very seriously, often to Liara’s annoyance, though she tried to be patient.  “I’m not a child, Lt.  I’ve been on the frontlines more times than I care to remember.  I know how to handle myself in a warzone.”

“Not doubting your capabilities, Doctor, but the Hierarchy promised Asari Command to get you to the Alliance safely.  That’s exactly what I intend to do.  I will not take unnecessary risks with your life,” Victus replied definitively. 

“Very well, Lt.,” she acquiesced.  “I’ll be good.”

“You’ll be picked up here by an Alliance team.  They’ll relocate you to the rendezvous with your contact.  Have you worked with the Alliance before?”

“Not extensively.  Certainly nothing to this degree, but I do find the humans fascinating.”

Victus grunted.

“You disagree?” she asked curiously.

He shook his head.  “Nothing against them at all, Doctor.  I just wouldn’t call them ‘fascinating’ myself.  They’re tough though.  Tougher than I expected.” 

“They’re going to need to be,” she said, as if she had clear foresight of what was to come.

“Your contact is supposed to be one of their best.  Her name’s Shepard.”

“Yes, I’ve read up on her extensively.  Mission reports, personnel files.  She’s only twenty-nine, yet her accomplishments are impressive, and her ability to interface with the beacons is phenomenal.  She is one of their best,”  Liara said, letting more excitement creep into her voice than she wanted to reveal, and she also realized she her smile was getting bigger as she spoke.  Here these turians were risking their lives for her, and she could hardly contain her excitement to be aboard a human vessel and meet this Shepard.  “I’m hoping she is exactly the weapon we need.”

Victus patted his rifle.  “Can’t speak to that, Doctor.  I’ll trust my rifle and squad mates over a 50,000 year old beacon any day, but I still hope you find what you’re looking for.  It’s been an honor to serve as your bodyguard these past two weeks.  Maybe if your search ever brings you to Palaven, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Liara smiled politely.  “I’ll remember that.  So, you’re going back to Palaven?”

He nodded his assent.  “We’ve been able to grind the ground invasion to a halt for the moment.  The longer we hold them back, the more of our people can evacuate to fight another day.”

“I hope you’ll take care of yourself,” she said. 

“Thirty seconds!”  The pilot shouted from the cockpit.

“Ready!”  Victus barked.  “Parna, Catick!  As soon as that door opens I want you two outside and sweep the landing zone.  You know our orders.  T’soni is a level 1 asset.  That means we fight to the last man to protect her.”

The turians beat their hands against their chests and roared their agreement.

The shuttle neared the surface and the door slid open.  Parna and Catick were out on the ground before the shuttle had even touched down. 

“Hostiles!”  Parna shouted and began firing towards the Cerberus troops that emerged from behind scattered boulders.

A projectile slammed into the side of the shuttle and a yellow gas immediately began to spread.

“Damn it, get your helmets on!”  Victus shouted as he tapped his omnitool and his helmet quickly extended up from the collar of his armor.

Two of the other turians in the shuttle were already on the ground coughing uncontrollably while the other managed to get her helmet activated.  Being farthest from the door, Liara fortunately was able to get her breathing mask activated before the gas reached her. 

Parna and Catick had taken cover behind two boulders and were engaged in a gun battle with the Cerberus forces.  Catick had taken a bullet to the leg and was bleeding profusely, his suit’s automated medi-gel having failed to deploy.  He ignored it and slapped a fresh heatsink into his rifle.

“And I thought today was going to be boring,” Catick shouted and lobbed a grenade behind one of the boulders two soldiers were taking cover behind.

Parna laughed as she tossed a medi-gel pack to Catick.  “Looks like my lucky day actually.  Remember that bet we had a month ago?  One who gets shot first has to buy dinner.”

Catick ignored the medi-gel and kept fire on the enemy.

“Damn it, Catick, use the pack.  I expect you to take me dancing after dinner.”

“That wasn’t in t…” Catick’s sentence was cut short as a sniper’s bullet cut right through his shields and pierced his helmet.

“Catick!” Parna shouted as she saw him slump forward into the dirt.  She tossed out a concussion grenade in the direction of the Cerberus soldiers and made a dash from her boulder to Catick’s.  The sniper cut her down halfway with a shot to the shoulder.

Victus saw Parna fall and struggle to drag herself over to Catick.  “Abort, Kenno!”  He shouted to the pilot.

The engines began to fire up only to quickly shut down again.     

“We’ve taken damage to the port engine.  I’m trying!”

Liara headed for the door, but Victus grabbed her arm and forced her back.  He and the other soldier still conscious in the shuttle put down a covering fire above Parna as she crawled towards the boulder.  Then a second sniper’s bullet made their effort wasted.     

“Fucking Cerberus!”  Victus roared.         

A sniper’s red dot appeared on Victus’s helmet, and he was suddenly thrown to the ground as Liara leapt on top of him.  Half a second later the shot pierced the shuttle’s hull.

“Nice work, Doctor,” he said. 

Liara rolled off him and began to cough.  She’d dislodged her breathing mask and now the acrid gas filled her lungs.  Victus grabbed her, shouting as he pulled her into the cockpit.  Was it her name he was shouting?  The coughing eased, but she was going light-headed and her vision was blurry.  Victus was talking to her, soothing, but she couldn’t make it out his words before it all faded to black.

***

Liara slowly opened her eyes.  Her mind was still foggy and a dull ache lingered in her head.  Realizing she could not move her arms, her breathing grew rapid and she began to struggle.  Her wrists were bound behind her back, and she was lying on a bed in what could only be a cell.  There was nothing else in the room save the bed and a door with no control panel.  She could recall few times when she’d been in this bad of a spot.  She had no idea where she even was or long she’d been unconscious.  Having no success with the binding on her wrists, she was at least able, with some effort, to succeed in moving to a sitting position.  As her thoughts began to clear the last thing she could remember was saving Victus from a sniper’s bullet.  Now, Victus was probably dead.  They were all probably dead.  The turians held up their promise to give their lives for hers.

The door slid open and two heavily armored Cerberus soldiers entered.  Liara tried to create a biotic field and cried out when an unbearable pain pierced her temples.  She cursed inwardly.  They must have drugged her.  As a well-trained asari her biotics were substantial and they had right to be afraid, but now she was all but helpless.

The two guards approached and pulled her surprisingly gently up from the bed.  One prodded her lightly in the side with the butt of his rifle, guiding her towards the door.  They escorted her down a short windowless hallway and paid no attention to her so long as she kept pace, only prodding her with the rifle again if she ever slowed.  She twisted and pulled her hands, cutting and chaffing her skin as she struggled against the binding on her wrists.  There was no value in the struggle, but she could not stop herself.  They entered a small room with a single chair in the center.  A monitor on the left was hooked up to a camera that was trained directly on the chair.  The soldiers guided her forward to the chair and then left.

“Good afternoon, Dr. T’soni.”

Liara turned to face the speaker.  A young human woman in a black and white uniform bearing the orange and black Cerberus mark approached her.  The woman had a warm smile that Liara found disquieting. 

“I’m Operative Lawson.  It’s good to finally meet you,” she said as she pulled her long black hair back into a ponytail and wrapped a band around it to keep it place.  When she was done she gave an apologetic smile.  “Sorry, never like to start work with my hair down.  Please sit.”

Liara did not move.

She shrugged indifferently.  “I hope you are feeling better, Doctor.  Berilis gas has no long term effects, but it can leave you with a nasty headache,” Lawson said as she walked to the table where the monitor was sitting and grabbed a small canister.  She then pulled the lid off and took out a small amount of medi-gel and returned to Liara.  She grabbed Liara by the arm and began to gently rub the gel on her injured wrists.

“That’s not necessary,” Liara said and tried to pull away, but the woman kept a firm grip on her arm.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Doctor.”  She finished applying the gel and then removed the cuff.  She returned to the table and laid it down.  Turning to face Liara she leaned back against the table and crossed her arms. 

With her hands free Liara rubbed her wrists.  The medi-gel was already easing the pain.

“Dr. T’soni, quite simply, I need your help.”

Liara turned to her.  There was no doubting the woman’s words, but it didn’t matter to Liara.  “Then we have a problem,” she said coldly.

“I sincerely hope not.”  Lawson replied.  “Your knowledge of the Protheans is nearly unequaled.  I think the galaxy could benefit from our partnership. ”

“I have no doubt that you think so.”  Liara smirked. 

“Ah, you don’t trust me?  I’m Cerberus.  The enemy,” Lawson mocked.  “The Reapers are the enemy, Doctor.”

“I’ve seen friends butchered by Cerberus.  I’ve seen cities burn, not because of Reapers.  No, because of Cerberus.  Do whatever you want to me.  I would rather see the galaxy on fire than see it saved by Cerberus.”

Lawson clucked her tongue as she approached Liara.  “How very selfish of you, Liara.  You would condemn trillions to save your pride?” 

“Pride?”  Liara said with disbelief.  “You killed those turians.  Once you have what you need, my fate will be theirs, so let’s get to it.”

She reached over and gave Liara’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, which only made Liara hate her more.  “The turians died because it was necessary.  They would never have let you go willingly.  Cerberus has no desire to kill you.  I certainly don’t want to kill you.  We merely want to stop the Reapers.  You can help us do that.  You can help us save your world, Liara.”

“I won’t.”

“You really don’t know what I’m offering,” she purred.

“Nothing that I need or want,” Liara said with finality.

“You asari have the unique ability to… mesh with another being.  You can share memories.  We know that you have been training to help those who can use the beacons filter through the visions.  They’ve assigned you to work with someone in the Alliance.  A marine.  A bloody soldier.  Shepard?”

Liara feigned a confused look.  “I’m just a scientist.  A researcher.  I don’t know who you’re talking about, and I seriously doubt a marine would find me helpful.  You’ve wasted your time coming after me.” 

Lawson wagged her finger.  “Oh no, you’re more than that, Liara.  How can they expect a brute like that to begin to understand the visions the Protheans left behind for us?  The fact that this Shepard can interface with the beacons at all is dumb luck.  Whereas my ability to use them was a purposeful choice.”

“What have you done?” 

Miranda gave her a sly grin.  “Your time with the Alliance will be wasted.  But you and I?  I can interface with the beacons, and you can help me understand it.  Together we can find every secret.”

“My time is being wasted now.”

She grabbed Liara’s hand and pressed it to the side of her face.  “Four.”

Liara’s eyebrow arched.

“I’ve interfaced with four beacons, Liara, and then we destroyed them.”

Liara’s lips trembled with anger, and she had to resist the overwhelming urge to dig her nails into Lawson’s throat. 

“All their secrets are gone forever.  Except for here,” she said and pressed Liara’s hand harder to her face.  “Just think of the possibilities.”       

“I don’t care, Operative,” Liara growled and jerked her hand away.

Lawson gave her a mirthless chuckle.  “You’re a scientist like me.  You should care.”         

“We are nothing alike.”

“How can you be so blind?  I start out already able to understand more than Shepard could ever hope to.  This would be a true partnership, not the hand-holding you’ll have to do with that emotionally scarred blunt instrument the Alliance is throwing at the problem.  We have the resources to get you whatever you need and to win this war.”

“You certainly make a girl feel wanted,” Liara said, “but this is all moving so fast.  Perhaps, we could have dinner first?”

Lawson frowned.  “You find all of this humorous?”

Liara grinned and leaned closer to her.  “I find your desperation absolutely delightful.”

“My name is Miranda.  I’m the best Cerberus, even humanity, has to offer.  You should feel flattered that I ask for your help.”

Liara scoffed.

“What?”

“You accuse me of pride?  If you are the best Cerberus has, then we have gravely overestimated Cerberus’s threat.” 

Lawson slammed her fist into the side of the asari’s face.  “I’m talking about the fate of galaxy, and the best you have is petty insults.” 

Liara was shocked by the sudden blow and its force and fell back a step.  She rubbed her jaw and then stood up straight and took a step toward Lawson.

“I would prefer not to do that again,” she said.  She sighed and clasped her hands together.  “Where is the beacon, Doctor?”

Liara’s sapphire eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. 

The human shook her head with disappointment and hit her again.  Liara didn’t try to dodge.

“Where is the beacon, Doctor?”  Lawson still did not raise her voice. 

Liara gritted her teeth in preparation, the taste of warm blood in her mouth.  The human woman’s fist slammed into her right cheek for the third and then a fourth time.  She made sure to hit the exact same spot with each strike, leaving the blue skin bruised and smeared with her purple blood.  Her head was swimming, but so far she had managed to stay on her feet.  She could tell the woman was impressed.  She no doubt expected a scientist to crack quickly, but Liara was no stranger to pain.

“Dr. T’soni, we want to keep this simple.  Let’s just start with the name of the system then,” Lawson suggested, spreading her palms.

Liara looked at her.  The woman’s cold blue-grey eyes were not without pity, but Liara had no use for pity even in her current situation.  “I don’t remember.  If you hit me harder, it might jog my memory.”

She frowned and hit her again.

Liara’s knees buckled that time, and she grimaced as her knees slammed hard onto the deck plate.  She tried again to form a biotic field but the pain was too overwhelming.

She knelt down, grabbed Liara’s chin and forced her head up so she could look her in the eyes.  “You realize that this is the easy part?  I’m the nice one here.”  She leaned closer to Liara, and then reached out and pressed her fingertips tenderly to Liara’s wounded cheek.  The asari visibly flinched.  Her words fell softly from her lips.  “Where is the beacon, Liara?  We can find it together.”

Liara spat a mouthful of blood onto Lawson’s uniform.

She sighed.  “That’s a shame.”  She stood and turned her back to Liara then tapped her earpiece.  “This is Lawson.  Bring in the other one.”

Liara’s pulse quickened and her skin went cold.  She looked at Lawson.  “What other one?”

Lawson glanced over her shoulder at her.  “What is the system?”

The door slid open and a soldier entered, Lt. Victus walking beside him.

Lawson gestured to the turian.  “This is Lt. Victus.  You know him?”

Liara looked to Victus and nodded.  Her voice trembled slightly.  “You didn’t kill them all?”

“No, we were able to capture this one.  Do you know who his father is?”

“Yes,” Liara said softly.

“Sidearm,” Lawson said and turned back to face the soldier and the turian.  The soldier handed his pistol to her.  She raised the pistol and pressed it to Victus’s temple. 

Victus stood straight.  “Don’t let them break you, Liara.  They will come for you.”

“I really do not want to kill this brave soldier.  Give me what I need, and you have my word, he will not come to harm, nor will you.”

“You can go to hell, Cerberus,” Victus snapped.

“He tried to bargain for your life.  He thought I would give a damn that he’s the Primarch’s son, and honestly, under different circumstances I might.  Next to you though, he is useless to me.  I lose nothing by killing him except a very little bit of sleep.”

“Nor will you gain anything,” Liara replied.  “I promise you that.”

Lawson looked to Liara.  “If I have to kill him because of your stubbornness, then I lose my patience.  Then it only gets worse for you, Liara.  You will wish so desperately that you could come back to this moment and make a different choice.  Make this easier for all of us.  Help me.”

“I guess we won’t be having that drink, Doctor,” Victus said.

Liara swallowed hard and locked eyes with Victus.  She gave him a comforting smile and nodded.  “The Lt. gave you our answer, Operative Lawson.  ‘You can go to hell.’”

Lawson narrowed her eyes and without further hesitation pulled the trigger.  Victus’s body fell to the ground beside her, his blood running across the floor.   

Liara, still on her knees looked down at Victus and then back to Lawson.  The sadness on Liara's face morphed into a self-confident smirk.  Lawson motioned to the soldiers who grabbed Victus by his feet and drug him from the room, leaving a trail of blood behind them.  When the door closed behind them, the two women were alone again.

Liara slowly stood and returned to her chair.  Taking a seat, she clasped her hands on her lap and looked to Lawson.  “Now,” Liara said with a grim smile, “we can talk about a deal.”

Lawson’s confusion was evident on her face.  She opened her mouth as if to speak but said nothing.

“I’m not making a fucking deal with Cerberus in front of witnesses.  Particularly, witnesses that are my allies,” she explained simply.  “If I’m to help you, then no one is to know.  If we win this war, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life exiled from my people or worse.”  She stood up and walked with slow, carefully paced steps towards to the human woman.  She could see Lawson’s body tense up as she leaned in close.  “Let’s talk about your offer.”        


End file.
